"[Y/N]! THAT DRESS IS WAY TOO SHORT! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!"
"Calm down, Paulie." You roll your eyes and adjust your hold on your clipboard. "It's right at my knees, no big deal."
"Of course it's a big deal! This is a work zone and you're distracting the men here!" Paulie scolded with flustered red colouring his face.
Ah, such is the life of a lady working in Dock 1. You were part of the inventory keepers, noting when supplies arrived and where they'd go. Paulie the shipwright gambler, kept getting flustered over every little thing about your appearance when you two ran into each other during the same shift. At first, it bothered you, and if it weren't for Paulie seeming to be one of Iceburg's favourites, you would've tried drowning him. Then, someway, somehow, he grew on you.
"Oh please, I won't be distracting anyone." You wave your pen around dismissively. "Besides I even got bending down covered, I'm wearing shorts underneath, see."
You tease him and lift the hem of your dress to show him your black shorts. Paulie's nose exploded blood out, steam flying from his face. Giggling, you drop your dress' hem back down.
"I think you broke him, [Y/n]," Kaku commented, walking up to you.
"He'll be fine. Whatcha need?" You turn to your other co-worker.
"New shipment came from the West Blue," Kaku informed you, leaning closer to add, "Devil Water Pose."
Devil Water Pose... Devil Wanted Poster...
Looks like another assignment has been added, which means your time at Water 7 is closing. Who knew Nico Robin would come here...
"Got it." You nod, keeping your smile. Kaku tips his hat and leaves to help other workers.
"What was that about?" Paulie asked, lighting up a cigar and raising a brow at you.
"Oh, Kaku just let me know about some supplies that just came in. I should go mark that." You spin away, finding it hard to face Paulie.
Paulie stares at your back, mildly puzzled. Something felt off, you don't leave in a hurry like that, especially in high heels. Maybe he's just overthinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You sigh, sitting at the bridge near Galley-La, clipboard in hand. Clicking the pen several times, trying to brush away writer's block, you stare at the paper underneath all the pages you stuff into the clip. If only you had more time to write this.
"What got you all bummed out?"
"Ah!" You flipped the papers down to hide the final page. Looking up, you see him. "Paulie, you scared me."
"Sorry," he apologized and leaned back against the railing of the bridge. "You gonna tell me what you were writing?"
"A love letter for you," you tease.
"Don't joke about that!"
You giggled, amused by his flustered state, until you looked back at the clipboard. Your mood goes back down. "I... I am writing a letter, I'm just not sure how to write it."
"Who's it for?" Paulie inquired, puffing out some smoke.
"...Someone I care about, I won't be able to see them for much longer."
"How come?"
"Work reasons," you answered, keeping it vague.
"Shame."
"Yup..." You stare at the water canal, biting back your tongue.
"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow to spend time with them?" Paulie asks.
"He'll be busy."
Paulie grumbles beside you. "What a chump, leaving soon and not bothering to spend time with you."
You giggle at the irony. "I don't blame him, Paulie. It's just how things are." You hear the man huff beside you before you continue. "Besides, he probably doesn't realize I care about him... I... I've been a little distant, you know."
"Shouldn't matter if you've been distant, it matters if he cares about you. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time." Paulie put out his cigar. You hum, acknowledging his words, even if your dilemma is different. A hand rests on your shoulder, you glance at Paulie. "If means anything, all of us at Galley-La care about you, [Y/n]."
"Thank you, Paulie." You wrap your arms around him, catching Paulie off guard. If things were different, maybe you would've given more than a hug. "Thank you for caring about me."
Paulie halts his emotions, sensing there's more to your story than you're telling him. He returns the hug, not understanding why it feels like you're saying goodbye.
And he won't know, until he reads your letter after you're gone.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Additional Tags: Whumptober 2023, Whump, Emotional Hurt, Sad CC-2224 | Cody, Rako Hardeen Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), Goodbyes, I should clarify Obi-Wan's only as dead in this as he is in canon, Which is to say he's not dead but Cody thinks he is, Letters
Series: Part 24 of Whumptober 2023
Summary:
After Obi-Wan is assassinated by Hardeen, Cody finds the letter he wrote to say goodbye should he die during the war.
My fill for whumptober day 24:
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
Let me know if you want to join my tag list by sending me an ask!
Tags: @kmomof4
Regina and Robin made their way to Town Hall as quickly as they could, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the people milling about just in case the pirate was amongst them. Everyone had the same melancholy, hopeless air of despondency about them. Regina couldn’t help but notice the dead looks in their eyes. She pulled her coat tighter around herself in an unconscious attempt at keeping the sadness at bay.
Robin reached out to place his hand on her lower back as they crossed the street, both needing the contact of each other in reassurance. They finally arrived at the mayor's office without any sign of Hook.
“No luck so far,” Robin stated, looking about, an expression of resignation on his face.
“No,” Regina agreed. Finding Hook was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. “Why couldn’t he have made it easy for us to find him?”
Robin grinned. “Because he wouldn’t want to make it too easy on you, love.”
Regina chuckled. Hook certainly did like to push her buttons, even if they were on the same side now. Her face dropped at the thought of their last interaction. Regina didn’t have many regrets (they were a waste of time, and besides, had she not done what she did, she wouldn’t have this life that she wouldn’t trade for anything), but she regretted not trying harder to make Hook see sense before he went that far. Had she said something just a day sooner, could all of this have been avoided? Had she refused to back down from him the first time she confronted him about his guilt for what he did to his father (at her behest), would he have listened to reason and allowed them all to work together? Could Emma’s plan actually have worked had they all just put their heads together?
This was the problem with regrets. They were a waste of time. Nothing could change what was done.
On the other side of the flames, a man took shape. Regina gasped in horror once she made out who it looked like.
“Daddy,” she breathed, her voice a broken and tortured whisper.
“Are these meant to be your parents?” asked Robin.
Regina sniffed and wiped away a tear. “I think so.”
“What does it mean that you’re seeing them in the fire?”
Regina shrugged. “I don’t know, but if they’re here… they must be here because of me.”
Robin put his hand on her shoulder in comfort and pulled her in close. “You don’t know that. They may not even be here.”
Regina nodded, wiping away a few more tears. “I have to find out.”
“We’ll keep our ears peeled in case someone says something at Granny’s, and we’ll look into it further if we have to. If they’re down here being harmed, we’ll make sure to save them, Regina,” Robin reassured her and hugged her tighter.
Regina returned the embrace and after a moment let go reluctantly. “Let’s go to Granny’s and see if he’s there. There’s nothing here but a dead end.” The two of them quickly left the office and hurried through the rest of Town Hall. Robin shoved open the door, only to stop short of leaving. Regina nearly bumped into him, and was about to ask, perplexed, what the hold up was when she spotted what had stopped Robin.
It was Roland. He was lying on the ground, deathly still. The world around him had faded to almost black; everything was slowly losing visibility.
“Roland?” Robin asked with a small amount of uncertainty, not sure he believed what he was seeing. They had left Roland back in Storybrooke with the fairies. How did he get down here?
Regina and Robin stared as Roland woke up and slowly stood, turning to face them. “Daddy?” asked Roland.
“I’m here, buddy. How’d you get here?” Roland asked, beckoning his son to come to him. “Come here; it’s not safe for you here!”
Roland smiled and then turned and ran in the opposite direction. Flabbergasted, Regina and Robin took one look at each other before sprinting off after the toddler. The boy ran fast, and soon the two adults were out of breath from chasing him. As suddenly as Roland started running, he stopped and turned to face them. Regina and Robin stopped too, clutching their sides and panting hard.
“Roland, come here, son!” Robin called.
A fire started just behind Roland. Regina frowned in confusion. Why would a fire just randomly start up in the middle of Storybrooke? But before she could work out an answer to that question, Roland began speaking.
“You can’t save me, Daddy. You can’t. I have to go into the flames.”
“No! Don’t!” cried Robin, lunging forward to stop his toddler, but he was too late. Roland turned and jumped into the fire, quickly becoming engulfed in flames. The flames rose so high and hot that it drove Robin back, him shielding his eyes from the heat and embers. Regina cringed at the sight, squinting her eyes against the heat and holding her hand in front of her face. That little boy had become like a son to her in the time she had known him, and her heart thumped so hard in her chest it felt as if it were going to beat its way loose.
Robin sank to his knees in despair as he watched the flames rise higher and hotter. As quickly as they had appeared, they vanished, leaving nothing but a pile of ash in its wake. Robin lunged for the ashes, grasping at them. They were cool to the touch, as if no fire had been there before.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no, this can’t be!” He ran his hands wildly through the ashes, searching for any trace of his son. Tears started running down his face, staining his skin where before the soot had clung to it. Silent tears started pouring down Regina’s face. She could only imagine how it felt to be in Robin’s shoes.
Robin turned to her and looked up at her. She slowly sank down to embrace Robin, trying to offer the only amount of comfort she had, knowing full well that nothing could stem this pain. She recalled how it had felt in Neverland to nearly lose Henry, and she wept harder. They stayed in this position for several moments, not wanting to believe what their eyes had seen.
Then, a voice interrupted their mourning. “Well, isn’t this precious?” it said. Regina and Robin looked wildly around to find the source but found none. “All this pain, this despair, just ripe for the taking.”
“Who are you and what do you want?” Regina called out, her voice quivering but forceful.
“I want your despair, your hopelessness. Every time you lose a bit more of your hope, I grow stronger.”
“You would kill a child just to drive us to lose hope?” hissed Robin. “A poor, innocent child who had nothing to do with any of this?!”
“Ah, yes,” chuckled the voice. “Little boys who venture where they shouldn’t get what they deserve.”
“MY SON DIDN’T DESERVE THIS!” roared Robin.
“No, but his parents did.” A man in a black suit with a black dress shirt and tie appeared before them. His hair was a shock of blue flames. He smirked. “Hi, I’m Hades. Lord of the Dead. How are you doing?”
“You’re Hades?” Regina repeated, not believing her eyes.
“Oh, yes. Lord and Master of the Underworld.” Hades placed his hands in his trouser pockets.
“Where’s Killian Jones?” demanded Regina. Robin stood silent beside her, shaking with fury.
Hades held out a finger in caution. “Uh, that is for me to know and you never to find out.”
“We’re not leaving this place until we find him!” Regina insisted.
Hades pursed his lips and cocked his head. “You assume that I’ll just let you leave.”
“If there’s a way in here, there’s a way out.” Regina sneered.
“That’s true,” nodded Hades sagely. “But only if I allow the exits to open. You forget that this is my realm and I am its Lord and Master.”
“After you murdered my son, letting us have the pirate and opening those exits is the least you could do. You’re lucky I don’t kill you where you stand!” Robin hissed.
Hades laughed. “You can’t kill me! I’m a God! And you are the ones who owe me. You came to my realm, and now you’ll pay the price.”
“And what price is that?” Regina asked sardonically, a smirk playing at her lips, her expression defiant in a way that only a queen could have.
Hades smiled an evil, cruel smile. His hair burned a brighter blue. “Your hope,” was all he replied. He waved his hand and then he vanished in a huff of jet black smoke. Regina and Robin were left in the street, everything turning back to normal around them. The pile of Roland’s ashes vanished along with the darkness and shadows. Departed souls meandered listlessly around them, staring at the couple in idle curiosity, but too despondent in their hopelessness to care about the plight of two other beings. Regina and Robin stared at each other, wondering what they were supposed to do next. Tears streamed down Robin’s face at the thought that his son, his only tie to his beloved wife, was gone. Neither spoke for a long time.
Regina looked at Robin and embraced him. “We should go find the others,” she said. “Tell them what happened… what we’ve learned.”
Robin nodded his head and slowly they began to trudge back to Granny’s.
Snow White didn’t fear too many things. After living most of her young adult life on the run from the Evil Queen, losing both of her parents too soon, enduring (and awakening from) a sleeping curse, having to put her newborn daughter into a portal to another world, and then having her newborn son kidnapped to take part in a dark magic ritual to summon a time portal, she figured there wasn’t much point to being afraid. To be honest, this belief had served her well through these last years in Storybrooke. After all, the events of these last years had been enough to drive a lesser person to the brink, and yet they had all managed just fine.
So far, this sojourn to the Underworld seemed to be like anything else they had done. It shared many similarities with Neverland. Granted, that experience had been the closest she’d felt to real fear in a very long time, but they had all escaped, if not unscathed, then at least with their lives and, most importantly, together.
She was even more grateful to have David by her side. She had never been more thankful that he had been able to leave Neverland until this moment, because she didn’t think she’d have been able to handle this trip without him. She felt she was barely hanging on for Emma. She was so worried about her daughter.
David took hold of her hand, startling her out of her reverie, as they crossed the street to the library. Once they got there, they pulled at the doors, only to find them locked.
“Well, I guess that means that Hook isn’t here,” David stated.
“It was a long shot anyway,” Snow sighed.
David looked around them, observing the dead meandering sadly about. “Let’s go on to the loft. Maybe he’s gone there.”
“That’s probably another long shot,” Snow stated.
“Probably, but we have to hope that we’ll eventually find him.” David took her hand once more and they pressed forward, hurriedly walking the short distance to the copycat of their Storybrooke apartment.
“That’s all we have is hope right now.”
David nodded in agreement. “I’m worried about Emma.”
“So am I,” Snow replied. “I hope we can succeed. I don’t know how she’ll react if we don’t.”
David nodded. “At least she knows we’re there for her. I’d hate to think of her facing this alone.”
Snow nodded in agreement. “And she’ll always have us,” she replied firmly.
“Always,” David affirmed.
Though Snow had always regretted sending Emma through the wardrobe, she wouldn’t change anything about how their lives turned out. Snow would make damn certain that her daughter wouldn’t feel let down or abandoned this time, regardless of whether Hook returned with them or not.
They quickened their pace and fell into mutual silence. A few minutes later, they were approaching the door to their building when Snow felt the hairs of the back of her neck stand on end. Something was watching them.
David reached for the door that led to their stairwell when the lights suddenly grew very dim. Fog rolled in around them, muffling the sounds coming from the rest of the town proper until they couldn’t hear anything but their own breathing. They both were instantly on their guard, reaching for weapons they didn’t have.
“On the count of three,” David said. Thankfully, the door was still beside them.
Snow nodded and began the countdown. On three, David wrenched the door open wide enough to ensure Snow could get in and then slipped through the opening, pulling it firmly shut behind him. Snow sprinted up the stairs, hoping against hope that her bow and quiver were in the Underworld version of the loft. David tried to secure the door as best as he could with nothing to work with and hurried after his wife. Before he climbed more than a couple of steps, a black cloud descended in front of him, impenetrable. He hollered a warning for Mary Margaret, but he had no indication that she had heard him, and soon she had left him behind. He only thought of trying to get to the loft as quickly as possible. Snow clambered up the last flight of stairs and stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw in front of them.
Emma was at the top standing in the shadows (that always seemed to linger about in the Underworld no matter how much light there was) and staring down the steps, not moving, not blinking. An indescribable look was on her face. Snow suddenly felt a swooping sensation of dread.
“Emma, I thought you were going to your house to look for Killian,” Snow stated.
“You thought wrong then, didn’t you?” Emma stated, coming out the shadows just enough for her mother to see the distasteful expression on her daughter’s face.
“Oh, well, if you want you come with me we can check to make sure if Hook is in the loft.”
“I don’t care about that,” Emma replied softly. “I care about why you abandoned me in the first place.”
Snow blinked. “Abandoned you? What are you talking about?”
Emma stepped down one step and stopped. “I’m talking about the wardrobe. Sending me to the Land Without Magic in the first place. Refusing to be the mother I needed,” Emma said slowly, enunciating each syllable in the words she spoke.
“Oh, Emma. I thought we were past this. I thought you understood why I did it, that I wanted to give you your best chance at a happy life.” Snow’s heart felt as if it were breaking. Did her daughter truly still believe this? After all the time they had spent together as a family?
“My best chance was with my family,” Emma spat. “And you took that away from me.”
“No!” Snow protested. “No, I never did! I wanted you with us, but you weren’t safe from the Curse. I had to do what I had in order to protect you!”
“And look where your protection has gotten me! We wouldn’t be here if you had just trusted me to handle the Darkness on my own! But no, you had to meddle and try to stop my plans. You don’t love me; you never did!”
“That’s not true!” shouted Snow, tears streaming down her eyes.
“Well, it’s definitely not a lie! You tried to stop me from saving Hook’s life to begin with! You tried to take the only man who had ever chosen me away!”
Snow sobbed, “Of course not! I never wanted you to lose him. I came down here with you to save him!”
Emma laughed a cold laugh. “And you tried to talk me out of it in the first place! You’ve done so much damage to me, to my life, and you’re still ruining it!”
Snow sobbed. “Well, what do you want me to say? That you’re right? That I did all of that to hurt you? I’ll say it right now, but none of it would be true! I wanted you to have your best chance!”
“My best chance is having you out of my life,” Emma sneered.
“You don’t mean that! You don’t!” Snow stammered out, but it was pointless. Her protests were growing feeble. Had she really tried to hurt Emma? Had her actions really been out of a lack of maternal affection? Had she failed her daughter that badly?
“Of course I do. And I’m going to make sure you don’t do this to my brother.” Emma looked behind Snow. Snow hastily turned around, wary about what Emma was looking at but desperate to keep her guard up in spite of the pain she felt. Snow gasped when she saw what was behind her.
A man who looked a little like Neal was standing a few steps below her. Snow stared. She didn’t understand how this was possible. When she left he was just a baby…
“Hello, Mother. Or should I even call you that?”
Snow blinked. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Neal stepped closer. ‘You’re not much of a mother are you? You abandoned my sister, me…. It seems to me that ‘mother’ isn’t the right word for you.”
Snow stared at her son. “I didn’t abandon you! I never will!”
“But you already did,” Neal said, his green eyes flashing. “You did when you followed Emma here. And now you’re going to have to stay here, and I… will grow up without a mother. Just another Lost Boy.”
“No, I’m coming back! Your father and I, all of us! We’re going to come back to you, you have to believe me!”
“How can he?” Emma asked. “You’ve never given us any reason to think you’re sincere. You never came to find me during the Curse.”
“I was cursed; I didn’t have my memories!” Snow protested feebly. “Ask your father! Where’s David, he can tell you!”
“Oh, don’t get me started on him,” Neal scoffed. “He’s just as guilty as you are.”
“He was in a coma!” Snow gasped. It felt as if the walls of the stairwell were caving in on her. She wondered where David was. What was keeping him? He shouldn’t be taking this long to travel three flights of stairs. But her worries for her husband were short-lived as Neal and Emma both pressed closer.
“Aren’t you guys the ones who say you’ll always find each other?” Neal hissed.
“So why couldn’t that apply to your children?” Emma spat.
Snow’s heart felt as if it were breaking into a million pieces. She sobbed, unable to refute their words any more than she had. She had failed them, hadn’t she? Always putting others’ needs ahead of her own children’s. She could have done more; should have done more. Her knees started to give in, and she collapsed to the stairs.
‘We deserved a better mother than you,” Neal stated.
“We didn’t deserve to be abandoned,” Emma continued.
‘It’s all your fault,” Neal and Emma said simultaneously. Snow curled up as close to being in the fetal position as she could get while sitting on the stairs, sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn’t say anything more; she had failed them. She had never felt more hopeless.
David, meanwhile, was frantically trying to break through the fog. He didn’t know how long he had spent trying to push through it, crying out Snow’s name all the while. He was panicking; he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was his wife was in trouble and he couldn’t get to her. If something happened to her down here, he didn’t know what he’d do or how he’d survive. All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t give up. He had to keep trying to break through the fog. He couldn’t lose hope!
Panting heavily, and feeling on the edge of an emotional breakdown, he paused and looked around, searching for a weak spot. He felt desperate in a way he hadn’t been in years, at least not since Regina had been hunting them down in the Enchanted Forest. No, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t felt this desperate since Emma was trapped in the ice cave with Elsa when she first appeared in Storybrooke. This situation was so much like that one, only worse because it was his wife in this situation now. David finally understood what Hook had gone through for that stretch of time in which they weren’t sure if they could get Emma out of that ice cave.
There was no way in. The fog was as impenetrable as stone. All he could do was wait and hope for a miracle. Finally, after waiting for seemingly ages, the fog began to dispatch just enough for him to be able to thrust his fist into it. This seemed to be the catalyst he needed because the fog opened up enough for him to slip through.
“MARY MARGARET!” David shouted, thundering up the stairwell as fast as he could go, skipping two or three steps at a time. “Mary Margaret, where are you?” he called out again.
He started up the last flight of steps and stopped short. Mary Margaret was sitting on the steps at the top, curled in around herself, her arms hugging her knees and sobbing so hard she was almost hyperventilating. David looked around them, assessing their surroundings, but there was no one there. The fog also had seemingly vanished. Just what was going on?
David climbed the stairs slowly, keeping an eye out while also trying to get to his wife. When he got close enough to touch her, he crouched down and sat on the step beside her.
“Mary Margaret, are you alright? What happened?”
She just sobbed harder. He took her into his arms; she went willingly enough, not having the strength to refuse the comfort her True Love was offering to give, but he noticed that it was like she couldn’t resist. She acted as if she didn’t even notice he was there.
“It’s okay. I’m here. Can you stand Mary Margaret?”
But she didn’t respond. It was as if she had reached a pit of despair so deep she went catatonic with it. He continued to hold her, at a loss for what more could do. David felt hopeless.
From a lower level, two beings spied on the couple with twin smirks. One had a red tail, and the other had a blue tail. Though they looked human at first glance, it was easy to tell they were something else, something more sinister. They exchanged satisfied glances before looking down at a large crystal jar that rested on the floor between them.
The crystal jar was filled with a murky swirling substance that glittered and shone a myriad of colors, depending on the direction the light hit. It was about three quarters full.
“His Lordship will be most pleased, won’t he, Pain?” asked one of the beings. “We gathered quite a lot of lost hope here.”
“Oh, yes, this will do nicely,” Pain answered.
“It’s a shame we couldn’t drive the man into a deeper panic,” observed the first being. “We could have gotten more hope into the jar if we had succeeded.”
“Oh don’t worry, Panic, my friend,” reassured Pain. “You’ll get to use your spectacular talents to perfection soon enough. We just have to wait for the right moment.”
They exchanged evil grins again and then blinked out of existence, the nearly full jar of lost hope disappearing with them, leaving Snow White and Prince Charming to their despair.
CW/TW: scent trigger, flashback, aftermath of captivit, mentions caning, it as pronoun (dehumanization), lady whumpee
Everything smelled of roses, the scent thick and sweet in the air. When it took a deep breath, it caught in her throat and choked it.
It huddled in a corner, the walls hugging it like a cage. Waiting for—-something. An order. The cane, cutting into tender flesh. A possessive hand, caressing.
I like when you smell sweet, precious. Green eyes, watching every small movement.
Ok, so this starts the beginning of the end of the month the last 8 are all in a row (or adjacent) and follow one another. 1/8
——-
#24 sensory deprivation - raid on the tower
1/8
It’s extremely quick, the taking of the Avengers Tower. They cut the hard lines, and make it dark, send the emp and cut off all communications, and then they infiltrate.
Lockdown.
It’s 3am.
Safety protocol dictates that the rooms are locked down, no one in; no one out.
They’re looking for her. The Black Widow.
The one who took down the organization, with Shield as her back up. Shield is no more, but she’s still here.
How dare she, the one that used to be one of them.
Traitor. Sooka.
Revenge will be sweet.
She won’t escape this time.
.
They had tried once before, in Morocco. Found out where she was, followed her to where she would be. Took her out and down before she even knew what was happening.
It had been quick. The right intel, always makes the job easy, it’s the variables that make it hard. They knew that the Iron Man was coming; their use of tracking software of the skies above tipping them off; knew that the Hawkeye wouldn’t be too far behind. They inflicted the most amount of damage to her in the shortest amount of time, tied her up in ways they knew would leave marks, psychologically at the very least; then left the minions to fight and escaped. Ready to fight another day.
Try again. Reap revenge, as backed by the government.
Today is the day.
.
They locate her floor. Place C4 around the edges of the door.
Wait.
Go.
..
She’s not here.
They need to do this quicker; speak as such through the comm links. There’s 5 of them for each Avenger; spit up with specific rules of engagement to distract but not engage if not necessary. They’re not here for the others, they only want one. They know the Avengers will fight tooth and nail to protect one of their own, but they have to know she’s not one of them. Not American. Not Russki. She has no place in this world.
The others should be asleep, but they’ve been told not to rely on assumptions, on tech and manpower; these things only go so far to success. With her not being in her area, they’ve already failed.
But; no risk, no reward.
It’s a call to keep heading further in the tower.
They should retreat.
It’s supposed to be smash and grab.
Now it’s infiltration.
They assume she’ll be with Hawkeye. Partners in crime. Head to his quarters. They're not above taking him out. The team has not engaged yet, assuming slumber.
10 on 1.
Place the C4.
Wait.
Go.
..
They’re not here either. Until.
He hears the sounds of his men going down.
There was 10 of them. Now there’s 6. The 4 taken out with kill shots.
They’re being picked off.
“The vents!”
It’s fucking obvious. The vents aren’t secured, not locked down. They give free movement.
They can be though.
Yells a warning.
Opens fire. It’s not rubber bullets this time.
Stops.
Commands them to come out.
They want her alive, but will take her dead.
Waits.
They can hear the distant rumblings of explosions and fighting elsewhere in the tower. It’s a lapse in concentration that’s costly.
She’s standing in front of them.
“You.” She says with vitriol in her voice.
They attack, 6 on 2 is a fair fight, every kick, every punch, feels justified. He pulls out a knife and throws it at her, just as she throws two discs out.
And then he knows no more.
.
When he wakes, he’s blindfolded. His leg hurts. He realises very quickly that he’s tied down.
There’s cuffs at his ankles, chest, arms and neck.
His ear piece has been left in but someone’s messed with the frequencies. All he can hear is a low piercing squeal of feedback.
